


Turn Six

by printers_devil



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: An Astonishing Amount of Jizz, Canon-Typical Violence, Come Eating, F/M, Female My Unit | Byleth, Feral Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Prostitution mention, Time Loop, sex comedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 08:40:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29347524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/printers_devil/pseuds/printers_devil
Summary: Five times Byleth tried unsuccesfully to explain Divine Pulse to (feral) Dimitri, and—there is no plus one. (It doesn't work any of the times.)Written for Dimileth Hot Flash.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 3
Kudos: 65
Collections: Dimileth Hot Flash





	Turn Six

**Author's Note:**

> Maybe the real 5+1 is the friends we made along the way. 
> 
> Alternate summary: "anyway I imagine every dimitri nut to be an edward cullen after 100 years of never nutting nut."

This was the sixth time today she'd tried to have the conversation with Dimitri.

The first two times he'd been incredulous, dismissive. The third time, he'd become enraged, and she'd had to knock him out with the heavy candlestick on the bedside table. The fourth and fifth times, they'd ended up having sex, which had been good both times. Unfortunately, she kept everything that was on her body when she reversed time, and that included his come, which was staying inside of her by the Goddess's grace alone.

Sothis would have approved of attempts four and five. Sothis would have cheered her on, and then told her to stop trying to explain her powers, especially to a man in such a pitiful state as Dimitri's. _Whatever happened to your handsome young prince, child! Fool boy. The path of vengeance…._ And then she'd tell Byleth the right thing to say, the thing that would snap him out of this, just like she'd told Byleth what to say to all her students all those years ago.

There was no voice in her head telling her how to fix this. Attempt number six was hurtling headlong toward sex, too.

Dimitri had already asked her who'd left these bites on her throat—he had, about ten minutes ago—and, without waiting for an answer, he'd gone in to make some more. She'd seen him thrust his whole hand through enemy soldiers' chests, bloodied fist punching through plate armor and mail. With that same hand, he held her still by the back of her neck as gently as he'd hold a flower.

Byleth unbuttoned her shirt as Dimitri's mouth moved down her throat, his hands roaming up her skirt, skimming her bare cunt. Now that she was being seduced in the exact same way for a third time in a row, she had some space to think. Everything he did in bed, every touch, every movement, felt precise and calculated. Jeralt had bought her a whore when she'd turned eighteen—he'd said the woman was expensive. Byleth, who'd come very close to having an emotion by the end of the evening and had been very confused by it, had not exactly asked to see the invoice. That woman had worked Byleth over the same way Dimitri was working her over now. It made one wonder just what he'd been doing for the past five years when he hadn't been hunting Adrestians for sport. 

She shifted forward, and his come threatened to run down her inner thigh. Was coming this much a Crest problem? Last time he'd remarked how wet she was, but surely this time he'd notice that it wasn't just her own fluids down there.

This gave her an idea.

"Dimitri," she said.

He looked sullenly up at her, his teeth still in her flesh.

"Before you fuck me, please do something for me."

Dimitri grunted with irritation. 

He'd already pulled out his cock, and Byleth curled her fingers around the root of it, running her thumb up and down in the suggestion of a handjob.

Dimitri settled.

"Go to my desk. Write something down on this piece of paper. Make a secret only you would know. Seal it with wax and your signet."

She'd seen the Blaiddyd signet ring the first time they'd fucked this evening. It was tied around his neck on a dirty piece of yarn. He hadn't had it the last time they'd slept together, or any of the times before that.

He gave her a perplexed look, which was a lot better than looking like he was going to murder her. Then he walked over to her desk and scrawled something on a piece of paper with a charcoal pencil, followed the rest of her instructions, and came back to the bed, tossing the paper carelessly onto the pillow as he went.

-

Attempt seven. Dimitri broke his seal and stared at what he'd written.

Byleth had no idea what was on the paper, but apparently it was nothing good, because Dimitri sputtered: "What trickery is this—you mock me—"

"It's your signet," Byleth said. "Your handwriting. Would you like to know how I got this?"

It went downhill quickly from there. She knocked him over the head with the candlestick before he could get as bad as he had during her third attempt, and another time, just for luck.

-

She had had no secrets for the first twenty years of her life because there had not been a _Byleth Eisner_ to have secrets, not really. Now it was easy for her, and that meant it was lonely. She had also spent twenty-one years not knowing how to be lonely, and now she had to reckon with it.

The first time she'd tried to tell Dimitri, she had wanted to speak of it with someone who wouldn't be concerned about her feelings (who was also not Felix. Felix had a lot of emotions, and pretended they were all swords). Dimitri had seemed like the perfect option. She'd speak to him of it, and then she'd turn back time so he didn't remember the conversation.

Now it was a tactical game. How far could she advance her forces across the board before they were cut down?

Not very far.

-

Attempt eight: he held her down, fingered her, and asked her how many times she'd been fucked today. He'd demanded to know who'd left all this come inside her. She answered truthfully that she'd had sex three times, and that if she told him who she'd had sex with, he wouldn't believe her. Dimitri laughed and ate his own come out of her pussy, and then he filled her up again. It was hot, but ultimately unproductive.

-

Attempt nine: Byleth mopped Dimitri's fourth load out of her as discreetly as she could. This was made difficult by his pacing the length of her little room. She considered his handsome face, considered how skinny he actually was under his clothes, considered how little she wanted to go through round five, even though rounds one through four had been amazing. Time had still been passing for her, and now she wanted a snack. She dragged Dimitri to the dining hall.

-

Ten.

Byleth had never been good at subtlety. She got around this by saying as little as possible. She was sick of trying to be roundabout with this, and so she came right out with it:

"Dimitri. I can turn back time," she said, sitting at the edge of her bed.

"All right," said Dimitri.

He stared at her with his one eye. So far, so good.

"Not very far," Byleth continued. "Enough to save lives on the battlefield."

"I see."

"Also, we've had sex four times today."

Apparently, this did not interest him. That was a relief. Her pussy needed about a week of rest.

"Have you seen my death?" Dimitri asked.

About fifty times, in every possible way. She nodded. 

"Did I die well? Was I impaled on Edelgard's blade?"

"No one dies well in battle," Byleth replied.

"Hmm. Do not let me die unless it is with my lance in that woman's chest." 

"Of course," she said. 

"Is that all?" 

"Yes." 

For a person his size, Dimitri moved quickly. He grabbed her by the throat, fingers hard pressing into the bruises he'd left there.

"You're lying to me," he said. "You've spun me this nonsense story. I want to know why. My own professor, are you in league—"

Byleth sighed, and then she threw her body to the side for the candlestick yet again. 

-

Eleven. This was getting ridiculous. 

The heavy knock came, and Dimitri loomed in her doorway just as he had the past ten times.

"You called. I'm here," he said, as plainly resentful of the way he'd been summoned from his mumbling, also the same way he had the past ten times. 

"It's fine," Byleth said. "You can go back to the Cathedral. I don't need you." 

Dimitri slammed the door shut in her face. Byleth lay back down on her bed, smoothed her hand over cool, clean sheets that had, for her, been damp with sweat or come, or else bloodstained, not an hour ago. This was for the best. Maybe part of the gift of her Divine Pulse was the curse of being unable to talk about it with someone else. It wasn't as though Sothis was around for her to ask. 

She'd have to try this again with someone else. Possibly with a few more people, and also Dimitri, at the same time. There were bigger beds in the monastery. One had to exhaust every possible option before giving up, after all--so she had taught all of her students, and so she believed.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find your pal PD on twitter at [@a_printersdevil](https://twitter.com/a_printersdevil).


End file.
